


i'm on the road, i'm gettin' paid (like what you want, baby?)

by barbiewrites



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Captain Auston Matthews, Doggy Style, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Size Difference, The Leafs Losing To The Sens, this really is just auston being cocky as fuck and feeling entitled idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 18:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20698154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbiewrites/pseuds/barbiewrites
Summary: following the leafs loss to the senators on 9/19.





	i'm on the road, i'm gettin' paid (like what you want, baby?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plothole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plothole/gifts).

> wrote this at 3 am so it's probably not my best but dee put it in my brain and it needed to go !
> 
> title from ball for me by post malone

losing is never fun. you get used to it, yeah. see it as a learning experience, try to see where you can get better but — it’s never _fun_ for him.

he played well, but as he’s getting un-dressed and showered, as he’s talking to his team — _his_ team — about where they need to improve, as he’s walking with Mitch back to their hotel room.

they’re not rookies anymore, but all it really means is both of them in a queen bed and an empty room down the hall.

“it’s okay,” mitch says, because he reads auston like a book. “there are more games, like. this is just preseason stuff that doesn’t matter.” he’s pulling auston’s suit jacket off his shoulders. he’s always so clingy after losses.

he can still hear the crowd chanting his name. he knows he can get cocky sometimes, but fuck. that feeling of power, the adrenaline in him hearing his name chanted in a city that was supposed to hate him.

“we should have had a better start,” he says, bending to pull his shoes off, then standing back up to work on his tie but mitch’s hands stop him, gently working it off for him.

“it was really hot watching you almost get in that fight,” mitch says quietly, playing idly with auston’s tie. his voice is so honey sweet and innocent, looking up at auston innocently.

some no-name giving his team — _his_ team — a hard time, fucking with mo, running mango’s head. he knew getting into a fight with some career ahl-er in a preseason game was a bad look, but he wasn’t going to do nothing about it. that’s _his_ team.

mitch is still pretending to undo his tie and auston lifts up a hand, resting it on mitch’s cheek. it never fails to turn him on how _big_ he is compared to mitch, how his hand can easily cover half of mitch’s face, how thick his thumb is tracing over mitch’s lips. mitch’s tongue peeks out to meet it, licking over the pad of his finger before the digit sinks into his mouth and mitch’s lips close around it.

he sucks auston’s finger as deep as it can go, letting him press against his tongue. “turned you on, huh?”

mitch nods, then sinks slowly down to his knees. he uses his hands to grope auston through his pants, thick and straining. he lets his lips touch the fabric of his pants, mouthing over his shaft while one hand rests on his ass, the other gently cupping his balls. he knows how bad mitch loves it, how much he loves getting his throat fucked and god, auston loves it too. his messy face, covered in his own spit and tears and auston’s load shot across his face, how he lets auston grip his hair and pull him however he likes, the choked out little noises he makes when austons holding mitch’s nose into his pubes. he knows mitch loves how big his thighs are, how he loves being boxed between them when he’s sucking on auston’s balls, or having a face full of ass on the times auston makes mitch eat him out before his back gets snapped in half. he _knows_ there’s not an inch of him mitch doesn’t love or worship.

he tightens his hand in mitch’s hair and pulls, guiding him towards the mattress. “bed,” he says, “now.”

mitch is at a difficult angle but he tries, half crawling and half being dragged until he can pull himself up on the mattress and lie on his back to let auston kneel between his thighs.

once mitch is on the bed, flushed and staring up at him, auston doesn’t even bother being nice. he puts his hands on mitch’s shirt and pulls, letting buttons fly across the room and pulling another moan out of mitch.

“you’re so fucking easy, mitch, christ,” auston mutters, pulling at mitch’s belt and dropping that to the side then dealing with his pants and boxers.

“i can’t help it,” he admits like he’s embarrassed about it. auston pulls at the handle of his plug to get another moan out of him, then pushes it deep back in.

mitch yells again, back arching off the bed and auston splays a hand over his tummy, forcing him back down against the sheets when he pulls the plug right out.

“can’t even go a few hours without something in you,” he mutters while he manhandles mitch onto his stomach. it’s immediate, the way he lifts up his hips and arches his back beautifully just waiting for auston to sink into him. “so fucking easy,” he repeats.

mitch doesn’t do much more than moan, and for the time being he doesn’t mind mitch tugging on himself while he waits for auston to undo his belt and pants.

he doesn’t bother taking his clothes all the way off, just pushes his pants and underwear down his thighs and pulls his tie off so he can undo the top few buttons.

“whose hole is this?” he asks, sticking his middle and ring finger in his mouth.

mitch says something against the sheets, and auston pushes both digits into him. “huh?”

“yours,” he whines.

auston’s chest puffs up a little. “i own you?”

“yes baby,” mitch whines higher this time, and auston pulls his fingers right out, then leans over and spits on his hole.

“that’s fucking right,” his voice is louder than it needs to be, filling the room when mitch is so close. he puts a hand in mitch’s hair, pressing his face against the sheets and lining himself up to sink in.

mitch yells as he sinks in, hands bunching in the sheets and auston loves it, pressing into mitch with all of his weight as he adjusts, his sounds getting higher as his face screws up.

“oh,” he yells, “matty. fuck.” his back moves, arching up as he tries to get used to it once again.

“stay where i put you,” auston says, stretching his hand over mitch’s waist until he was perfectly arched again. “good boy.”

mitch gave another high whine, grinding back on him. “auston,” he calls, voice high and desperate.

he can almost feel it again, the adrenaline of playing and hearing people chant his name. he was neck deep in enemy territory, two goals in, proving why toronto was _his_ city, why the leafs were _his_ team. he wants to feel it again.

“say my name,” he grunts out, starting up a fast and heavy pace. he pulls mitch up by his hair.

it’s a lot of change and mitch gets lost somewhere trying to grab onto the headboard or a pillow or something while auston fucks into him relentlessly. he can hear a breathy little moan of, “aus.”

“fucking scream it,” he spits.

mitch tries again, louder this time but it’s still not enough. 

“fucking louder!”

“oh,” he gasps. “aus — aus, auston!” he’s yelling now, screaming through his moans.

it makes his chest feel warm, like he took a shot of whiskey. “that’s it,” he says. “i want everyone to hear, mitch, keep going.”

“auston,” he yells, “oh, auston. fuck.”

“that’s it,” he grins, “scream it, baby.”

he isn’t usually so rough with him — mitch is special to him, something to be cherished and treasured. but right now he’s not holding back, he can’t. he’s making mitch scream. he wants everyone to know it, to know he did that, that he’s making the prettiest boy in ontario scream and cry on his dick.

“auston, oh. auston, auston, auston, auston,” mitch chants like a prayer.

he’s still slamming into mitch, making him bounce with every thrust. his teammates, he’s sure, can all hear them. he swears they’re usually more respectful, but tonight really isn’t about respect, it’s about _him_.

“oh, matty.” mitch cries, high and tight, his knees threatening to pull together.

“keep your fucking legs spread,” auston says, “say my fucking name.”

“auston.” he chokes out, “i’m gonna cum, fuck, baby, please.”

he shifts forwards, pressing mitch back into the mattress. mitch is shaking, reaching between his legs to jerk himself off as he whimpers. he’s tightening down on auston as he cums, coaxing and milking one out of him, too.

auston’s right behind him, rolling his hips into him in deep, deep strokes that make mitch cry out with every grind.

“more,” he says when auston’s nearly done with his orgasm, “more.”

“you’re greedy,” he kisses the back of mitch’s neck, pulling out and rolling onto his back.

“i can’t move,” mitch says into the bed. “oh my god. i — i can’t move.”

“it was good?”

“auston, i can’t feel my legs. i don’t think i can play. i’m gonna have to go on long term injury.”

auston smiles to himself, lifting an arm up. “what about cuddling?”

mitch turns his head to face him. “maybe i can move for cuddling.”


End file.
